


International Women's Day

by noirangetrois



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, International Women's Day, Preventers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 15:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noirangetrois/pseuds/noirangetrois
Summary: When a bouquet of flowers arrives, Une is revisited by unpleasant memories.





	International Women's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Happy International Women's Day everyone! Just a quick drabble to celebrate. Hope you enjoy!

As usual, Une arrived at her desk early. There were only a handful of others in the building. Chang, of course, and Yuy, and Maxwell for a change. But then, he and Barton had a big case they were trying to close, so it made sense.

What didn't make sense was the bouquet of flowers waiting for her on her desk. She'd seen quite a few distributed throughout the cubicles, actually, but hadn't expected to find them in her office as well. People didn't buy her flowers.

She paused, taking in the red roses. It wasn't just roses in the bouquet, but for a moment, she couldn't see past them. Treize. Was his ghost never to rest in peace? Never to cease haunting her?

She sat down, then saw the card.

"Happy International Women's Day!"

Of course. How could she have forgotten? This happened every year. Unsigned, sent to every single woman in the Preventers, in every single office in the Earth Sphere. She'd even heard from undercover officers who received bouquets, which would have been unsettling if she hadn't known who they were from.

Most people didn't know, but it hadn't taken her long to guess. Who else could afford to buy and deliver flowers to so many people? Who else could figure out the identity of all those undercover officers? And know which ones it was safe to send flowers to, and which ones it wasn't?

Quatre, of course. He even made sure that every arrangement was different. Somehow found out which flowers were a favorite, at least for those he'd known during the war.

The first time, she hadn't had the heart to tell him that she hated red roses. He meant well, but somehow that Space Heart of his never noticed the pain she felt at seeing them each year, at having them displayed for all to see.

"Director?"

Composing herself, she looked up into jet black eyes.

"Yes, Lieutenant Chang?"

"Roses again?"

She nodded curtly, pinching her lips. In front of him, she could afford to show that barest hint of grief.

"As you can see."

He came around the desk, not bothering to ask permission, and put a hand on her shoulder. Of course he would know. Of course he had figured it out, that first year. Now he was there, as always. It was like a ritual now, reliable as the sun rising in the east, as the tides following the moon.

She always could depend on Wufei, she mused.

"I still see him in my dreams, you know," the former pilot admitted.

That was a surprise. He hadn't shared this before.

"Me too," she responded, moisture coming unbidden to her eyes.

"Someday, he will leave us be," Wufei said, as if by saying it, it would somehow come to pass.

"Someday," was all she could say. She doubted that was true, but why not hope? Why not pretend?

"Drinks tonight?" he asked.

"Definitely. I'm buying this year."

"As you say, boss. I'll see you then."

With that, he left. She took a deep breath, then mentally set the flowers aside, determined to ignore them. It was an impossible task, but she'd do her best, like she always did. It wouldn't do to let the others see how shaken she was.

"Happy International Women's Day, Director Une!" 

Une looked up, then forced herself to smile. Her secretary had arrived.

"Thank you, John. Good morning."

She took another deep breath, then booted up her computer. Time to get to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who read! I'd love to hear your thoughts. Comments give me life!


End file.
